With Every Decision
by Squirly Childe
Summary: It's funny how one wish can stop a tragedy by making another, and another, and another... ::warning:: Character Death
1. Prologue

**Title: With Every Decision**

**Disclaimer: We own none of these characters. They belong to Joss Whedon. If we did own them however, the Buffyverse would be far more darker, and would end with relationships actually working!**

**Summary: A wish to change the past, save the future Reviews: Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!**

**Warnings:Possible spoilers throughNot Fade away. Character death.**

"I seem to makes things worse for people. But I try, I try to be the champion they say I am. I think the more people use that word, the more I fail them. Buffy, Darla, Connor, now the BlackThorn. Every decision I make is wrong. Do you know what I mean?" Angel slurred, his scared but healing face hidden beneath the shadows of the smokey bar.

"Yes, honey. I do." Replied the redhead with the southern drawl. Her comforting eyes had a spark of mischievous delight behind them. The spark went unnoticed by Angel's glazed eyes.

"All of them." Angels voice grew hollow, his eyes distant. "Even Spike, I failed them all. Led them to a battle that didn't change anything. Got them killed even…oh god…Fred. Her soul…it's gone…and Gunn, Wesley. Cor…Cordelia…Doyle. If I died instead of him that day, everything would have been better. For all of them, things would have been so much better." Angel begins weeping. His massive shoulders shaking as he leans forward.

The woman's eyes flared with sincere grief, the pain of her own past reminding her why she's doing this. Her hand rises up and awkwardly pats the large vampire's back.

"Shhh…it's going to be ok." He southern drawls slightly fades away. "Don't you wish you could make this go away? All of these mistake you've made? Don't you wish you could make things better?"

"Everyday." Came his grave reply.

"Tell me? Tell me what you wish. Tell me how things could better." Her voice soothing, Urging him on.

He shakes his head, "It's too complex. Too much to change, how could I say one thing and change all of this?"

She leans her head on his shoulder, a small spell mumbled underneath her breath and she gave off a new scent.

"Buffy?" He mumbled confusedly. 'Buffy wasn't here was she? Is she here to save me? Or kill me for letting Spike die? Am I going insane?' Angel mentally asked himself.

"What would you change?" It was Buffy's voice, coming out the redheaded woman's mouth.

"I wish…I wish…I wish one thing, just one thing would change in the past. One thing to change that would solve of all these problems."

The redheaded woman changes into a red veiny demonic mockery of the beautiful girl that once stood there. Her hair melts from red to brown; her scent changes from Buffy to someone else, someone familiar to Angel.

"Wish granted!" She stated in a echoing voice.

Angel's eyes cleared and widen slightly.

"Anyaka? I thought you died!" Was all he got out, before everything flashed before his eyes.

**TBC...**


	2. One

**Title: With Every Decision**

**Genre: Drama/Angst/Horror**

**Disclaimer: We own nothing of the jossverse, we just play with it.**

**Spoilers: Read the Prologue.**

**Reviews: Readers Rock but reviewers rule!**

Angel blinked rapidly. His eyes trying to focus, as they did he noticed two things. One he wasn't drunk anymore. Two he's sitting in his old room at the hyperion. The hyperion's gone, destroyed during the alleyway battle with Wolfram and Hart. Where he lost Gunn, where he lost Wesley, where he lost his grandchilde's faith, what little there was to begin with.

Angel tried to stand but found out he couldn't, couldn't stand, couldn't move, couldn't talk. 'Guess there's a third thing to notice.' He pondered confusedly in his mind. 'What game are the senior partners playing?' He continued to think, trying to rationalize his sudden appearance in a long forgotten building. Forgetting just moments ago of the wish he made.

"It's not the senior partners doing, Angel." a familiar voice spoke. Out of the shadows came Anya, now with blond hair.

Angel peered confusedly at the demon turned human turned demon turned human again, killed apparently resurrected and then turned demon again.

Anya touches her blond hair. "Hmm…I forgot what I looked like as a blonde." She murmurs distractedly, not even paying attention to the frozen vampire anymore as she walks around his room.

She nods, "Nice place, very dark. Better then Spike's crypt." She reconsiders, "Except for the downstairs."

She turns to Angel and meets his confused gazed. She walks over to Angel and kneels before him, putting a comforting hand on his knee.

"Is this comforting?" She nods to her hand. "I never got if it's comforting or sexy to put your hand on someone's knee, and although you're really built. I only play sexy games with Xander."

Angel rolled his eyes.

"You made a wish, Angelus. Do you remember? To change one thing in the past, just one thing that would change your future. It's always up to the vengeance demon, up to them on how things change, what changes. What I do now, it can't be undone. Once I do it, I'll be human. No pendent to break, there will be no way to change it back. See when I died, I was given a chance by 'D'hoffryn. He has pull in the after life, and I struck a deal with him. A chance to start over, but I had to give him something in return. To get me back and just lose me again, well I have to do something great for his trouble. I keep you frozen, and I'm going to let you watch. Watch what I change, so you'll understand. So you won't hurt him." She raises her fingertips to Angel's eyes, her serious and saddened darting back and fourth, looking into each of his eyes individually.

"Look." She placed her fingertips on his eyes and he saw.

**TBC…**


	3. Two

**Title: With Every Decision**

**Genre: Drama/Angst/Horror**

**Disclaimer: We own nothing of the jossverse, we just play with it.**

**Spoilers: Read the Prologue.**

**Reviews: Readers Rock but reviewers rule!**

**Chapter Summary: This is what Anyaka shows him.**

**A/N: I know it's torturous the way it's being released. But every day a new chap. I promise. Now come on, have some fun in WayWard Childe and SquirlyforSpike's collected mind.**

"Look" was the last thing Angel heard before he felt like he was being ripped through time. His stomach got queasy, everything seem disoriented. He finally blinked his eyes open, his stomach settling down, everything seems normal. Except he was still in his damn chair, frozen. And now the chair was in the middle of the hallway of the old Sunnydale high school. And right in front of Angel was a Spike and Buffy, fighting. It was Teacher Parent night, all over again.

"Now! That hurt!" Spike exclaims amusedly as he pulls the stud out of the hallway wall. Swinging around he crashes the stud into the side of Buffy's cranium, effectively knocking her down to the ground.

Shaking his head, a look of grim determination on his face. "But not as much as this will." Just as he raises the stud to strike down, Spike blinks out of existence.

Angel's eyes darted around the room confusedly, hating himself for not being able to move and do something. He soon realized that no one was moving, Spike blinked out of existence and then every one froze.

"Sorry." Anya said apologetically. "Had to show you the prologue or the climax wouldn't make sense."

'What is this game!' Angel yelled out in his mind.

Anya looks down to the frozen vampire. "It's not a game, Angel. You said it yourself, the situation is complex, and it affects a hell of lot of people. Not just you. This is for me too." She places her hand on his shoulder in hopes of calming him. All it did was enrage his demon. "You've seen part one Angel. Brace yourself, because here comes part two."

Angel felt queasy again as time ripped around him; his vision blurred and so did everything around him. Everything around him changed and aged and soon started to slow down. When Angel got his bearings he didn't recognize the unfamiliar crypt with a TV and sofa.

Spike poked his head out of the hole in the ground of his crypt. 'I swore I felt something.' He thought to himself. 'Bugger, just my imagination.' Spike thought shaking his head of ridiculous paranoia.

When Spike started to get out of the basement of the crypt, Angel noticed the differences between the Spike he just saw and the Spike he sees now. Spike's hair is curlier, and his eyeliner and nail polish are gone. Finally it seems to Angel that a lot of the confidence and happiness is gone from Spike.

Spike walked over to his chair and put on his duster in almost a bored way. He cracked his neck, walked over to his fridge and pulled out a beer. Angel rolled his eyes as Spike finished the beer in one gulp. Spike went over to the corner of his crypt and picked up a box, that Angel swore he could hear mewing coming from it.

'What the hell is in that box?' Angel thought.

"That's not the point of the situation, Angel." Anya's voice became aggravated at the clueless vamp.

"No wonder everything you touch goes to shit, you focus on the wrong things. Just watch and stop thinking." The eleven hundred year old demon commanded.

Angel watched as Spike put on airs and left the crypt with a swagger in his step, box under his left arm. Moments later, the Spike from not but four years prior blinked back into existence right in the middle of the crypt.

He growled in ferocious triumph as he brought the stud crashing down onto the crypt's floor.

"What the bloody buggering hell." Spike swore underneath his breath.

Spike jerked his head around, his eyes inspecting his new surroundings. He walked around the crypt like a panther, dropping the stud on the sofa. He lazily inspected various nick knacks and the television, his eyes alert and keeping watch of his surroundings.

"Nice place." Spike commented to no one but himself.

Past Spike was about to walk over to the basement "door" and check the downstairs when all of a sudden Buffy kicks his crypt door open.

Spike whirls around angry and confused. "Slayer!" he hissed.

"Shut up, Spike." Buffy commanded as she pounced on Spike. Slamming him into the ground and then straddling his hips.

"What the bloody hell-" Past Spike is cut off by Buffy's lips slamming onto his own.

"Are we going to fuck or what?" She asks practically ripping off her blouse.

Spike stared at her wide-eyed but soon started taking off his own shirt.

Unknown to them both, Angel just sits there, unable to move. Tears cascading down his face.

**TBC…**


	4. Three

**Title: With Every Decision**

**Genre: Drama/Angst/Horror**

**Disclaimer: We own nothing of the jossverse, we just play with it.**

**Spoilers: Read the Prologue.**

**Reviews: Readers Rock but reviewers rule!**

Angel didn't even bother to close his eyes. He could still hear them, smell them, and feel their heat. They've been going at it for an hour, savage with no soft touches or romantic notations. Angel couldn't help but wonder; didn't she know this wasn't the Spike of her time? Couldn't she feel the difference? His arrogance back in full swing, the deadly viciousness in his eyes. He was a monster. Angel never really saw first hand how much Spike changed till he saw one leave the room and another enter. It was too hard not to notice, even before his soul Spike stopped being a monster and started being a shell. The soul filled the shell up, gave him meaning again. Right now the Spike in front of him, savagely pumping into his slayer, he had purpose. He loved his dark princess and he loved the destroy things around him. Didn't she know?

'Well this is different.' Buffy pondered as she kept up with Spike's pace. 'He didn't even try to be romantic, he acts like he hates me.' She thought with sadness. 'Do I do this every man I love?' She questioned. 'I screwed up again. I was awful to him, and now he doesn't even try. If he just waited, let me get used to it. Then maybe I could have told him.'

'I should of known Killing a slayer was better then screwing one.' Spike from 1998 thought maliciously.

When they were finally done Spike was about to get up when he felt himself being pushed off.

"Don't really want to cuddle, Spike." Buffy said emotionlessly as she got up and started looking for her clothes.

A deep chuckle emitted from past Spike's throat as he was putting on his pants.

"You think real highly of yourself, Slayer." Spike smirked at Buffy's shocked face.

He shook his and kept smiling. "I knew killing a slayer was going to be better then screwing one, but you have to try every ride at least once, is what I say." Spike said while putting on his shirt.

Buffy's mouth was hanging open as she stared at Spike stunned.

"You…you Pig! You…you monster!" Buffy stuttered out.

"Well aren't you a feisty one." Spike said as he casually walked to the couch.

"Who say's I'm a monster? That always Angelus's thing, to be a monster. What kind of monster reads Blake? Or can quote Shakespeare from memory." He started to linger around the couch, his hand caressing the stud he placed on the couch; all of this goes unnoticed by Buffy as her mind races from the changes in Spike.

"No, I'm not a monster. I just know my place." He spins around faster then the eye can see, the stud in his hand as he lashes out. The stud collides with the side of Buffy's head, sending her down like a sack of potatoes.

"Me? I'm the top of the food chain, and your dinner." Spike says as he brings the stud crashing down into her ribs. Buffy coughs up blood and is about to move but the Stud comes crashing down into her ribs again.

"I remember you being a much better fighter, luv." Spike just before Buffy kicked his feet out from beneath him. Spike fell to floor losing the stud in the middle of the fall. He quickly got back up, before receiving a punch to the nose for his efforts. Another punch came zooming through the air, but he blocked it with his forearm, and returned the punch with one of his own. Hitting her right in the throat.

Buffy falls to her knees choking, she's grabbing at her throat wilding, hoping to calm herself down, but knowing it will do no good.

"Spike (cough) why (cough, cough)."Buffy asked.

Spike smirked, and started shaking his head. "I don't know who you think I am, pet. But I'm not anyone you know." Spike grabbed the back of her hair and slammed her face down into the ground.

He pulled her head back. "You're not even trying." He slammed her face down into the ground again, and this time when he pulled her up, he was in game face.

"You must really want this. Please remember to scream." Spike said before he tore into her throat.

She did scream.

Angel couldn't scream, still frozen, still just a viewer to the awful consequences of his wish. His tears became as crimson as the blood running down her blouse.

**TBC…**


	5. Four

**Title: With Every Decision**

**Genre: Drama/Angst/Horror**

**Disclaimer: We own nothing of the jossverse, we just play with it.**

**Spoilers: Read the Prologue.**

**Reviews: Readers Rock but reviewers rule!**

Spike dropped the box of kittens as soon as he heard Buffy's scream. He'd been having a good night, winning four games of poker with out even cheating. Now with the slayer coming around like she is, he knows things will be all right. She'll change eventually he knows she will. All he needs to do is be kind and give her time. Till then, the sex was great, but hearing his slayer scream out in pain was a way to ruin his good mood. He raced towards the source of the scream; it was becoming apparent that the scream was from his crypt.

'What the bloody hell.' Spike thought. 'Why is she at my crypt? Oh…yeah, never mind. Who the hell was at my crypt waiting for her!' He continued to think, his legs moving faster than ever before. Once the closed crypt door came into his sight he leapt at it, busting right into it. The door swung open with a ferocious might, but Spike was pushed back ten feet.

"Bugger." Spike groaned as he perched himself up on his elbows. He cleared his head by shaking it and looked through the crypt door. The sight before him was puzzling and horrifying.

There in the middle of the crypt was him, staring back with a half conscious and bloody Buffy underneath him.

Spike just stared at his double, confused till the urgency of the situation clicked.

"Buffy!" Spike screamed in fear. Jumping to his feet Spike begin running towards the doorway once again, and once again he bounced off. A blue barrier flickered for a moment then disappeared. He jumped up and started pounding on the invisible barrier, a blue flicker appear every time his fist met the force.

"Buffy! Luv! Fight back! BUFFY!" He screamed an agonizing scream, his very bones crunching against the barrier.

The past Spike grinned at his future self.

"Well, pet. Here's your knight in shining armor. Don't know what you did to me to make such a ponce, but I think that's about to be rectified. Goodnight, Slayer." Past Spike whispered into her ear and bit down again. Quickly he was draining the last of the slayers blood.

Spike's punches slowed, the pain from his broken knuckles unbearable. The sight of his slayer dying by his hands was much worse.

"Buffy." He whispered as his fist slowed, too weak to do much else. Too sad to keep fighting. He leans against the blue barrier and starts sliding down to his knees. "Buffy." He quietly whispers. "Fight back."

Buffy opens her eyes; a look of pain mars her face, yet a serene peacefulness fills her eyes.

"Spike." She whispers so low, if that anyone but a vampire was in the room, they wouldn't be able to hear her.

"I'm going back." She begins to smile; a sadness now hits her eyes. "I'm glad it was you." She still whispers, fading as the black consumes her. "I…love you." Her dying breath admits her hearts truth. And then she's gone.

The past Spike drops her shocked, his body still as the revelation haunts him. He just killed someone who loved him. He didn't know, to him it was just a slayer, to his future she seemed to be much more. He looked up his mouth agape, his eyes glossy from tears.

"I…I didn't know." Was all he said before he once again blinked out of existence.

The blue barrier broke and Spike fell to the ground. He laid there unmoving, afraid to look up, afraid it'd be true.

Angel just stares at her form, shocked beyond words. His body moves slightly, vibrating in place. And finally it comes; he breaks the spell by will. An agonizing guttural scream tears through his throat as he falls out of the chair. He can feel his heart shatter into a million pieces, reform and shatter again. His hands reaching for his beloved, but they go through. Still just a viewer, still can't interfere.

**TBC…**


	6. Five

**Title: With Every Decision**

**Genre: Drama/Angst/Horror**

**Disclaimer: We own nothing of the jossverse, we just play with it.**

**Spoilers: Read the Prologue.**

**Reviews: Readers Rock but reviewers rule!**

Spike crawled through the now non-barriered doorway. The energy field had dispersed as if it hadn't existed. He pulled Buffy's limp body into his lap and cradled her gently as if the mere act of holding her would miraculously bring her back. Tears streamed down his face as he caressed her bruised and battered face. Trembling fingers touched on the torn throat, ineffectually pushing the ragged edges together knowing that it was useless. She was gone. A howl of rage and pain erupted from the grief-stricken vampire. He didn't understand. Was he insane? Had he finally snapped? He knew what he'd seen. He'd seen himself killing Buffy. It wasn't possible. But it had happened. Sobs racked his slender body as he bent over his beloved slayer. He ran his shaking hand through her long golden hair.

"Buffy, I'm sorry. I didn't do it. I swear. It has to be a spell. This isn't real. **_It can't be real!_** Oh God, _please_." He buried his face against her lifeless shoulder and gave in to his grief. He wasn't sure how long he sat there. Time had no meaning. Finally the chill in her body sank into his heart. He was sure he'd never feel anything again.

Rational thinking finally seeped into his grief. The slayer's body was in his crypt. If the Scoobies found her there, they would assume he'd done it. But he hadn't. He'd seen himself do it but he knew… He broke of that round of thinking. That way led to madness. A bitter chuckle broke from his raw throat. He was mad already.

He had nothing left. His reason for continuing to exist was lying cold and dead in his arms. He could feel the dawn creeping in. The new day was beginning. The first day he would have to survive with out Buffy. _No_! He couldn't, wouldn't do it. There was no living without his slayer. Ever so gently he placed her on the floor. He took extra care to keep her head from bouncing on the hard surface. He straightened her clothes and made sure she was as presentable as possible. He pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. Fresh tears spilled as he remembered her last words. "I…love you."

"Oh, God, Buffy. I love you too. I'll always love you." He whispered. He left the crypt and got on the roof. He knew the sun was only a half an hour away from rising. He sat on the tiled roof and waited. Unfortunately it gave him time to think. He went back over the horrific events. He saw himself again draining his beautiful slayer. He saw the realization of what he'd done dawn over those almost familiar features just before he'd winked out of existence. It had to be a spell of some sort. Who hated him enough to do such a thing? He realized that there were too many questions unanswered. He dropped off the roof of his crypt just as the first rays of the sun touched its edges. He moved purposefully into the crypt to pack, avoiding even a glance at the still body on the floor. He dropped to the lower level and threw everything he wanted to keep into his duffle. He'd always traveled light, keeping his mementos to a minimum so it didn't take long to pack. He tore a page from his journal just before he stuffed it into his bag. Finding a pen, he leaned over his dresser to scribble a note.

'I've gone to find out what happened and why. I don't know who it was but I'm going to find out. I have to finish it for her. Don't expect me back until I have the answers.

Spike'

He took the torn paper up to the top level. He saw her body once again and his hand tightened convulsively on the note. Distracted, he dropped the incoherent missive on the sarcophagus and turned away before he could succumb to tears again. He felt dried out and old from the grief. Feeling deader inside than he'd ever had in all his long unlife, he dropped back down to retrieve his belongings. He never noticed the wadded paper rolling slowly off the sarcophagus and dropping down out of sight behind it.

**TBC …**


	7. Six

**Title: With Every Decision**

**Genre: Drama/Angst/Horror**

**Disclaimer: We own nothing of the jossverse, we just play with it.**

**Spoilers: Read the Prologue.**

**Reviews: Readers Rock but reviewers rule!**

Angel gasped unneeded breaths of air when he opened his eyes. He looked around his surroundings. Back at the Hyperion not at the crypt, not near Buffy.

"Got to stop it." His voice hoarse from screaming, trembles out of his mouth.

"You can't." Anya's voice floated through the air, her body unseen.

"What do you mean I can't?" His grinding voice demanded.

"It wasn't a premonition, Angelus. You weren't seeing what will be, your seeing what already is. She's dead. She's gone." Ayna's matter a fact voice was tinged with regret and sadness.

"It was after all the only way." Her voice continued.

Angel stands up menacingly his posture filled with aggression.

"You could of done it other way!" He tried to yell but his voice came up short.

"Something great. I had to do something great." Her voice started to fade.

"I'm going to kill you, Anyaka! I'm going to nail you to walls and torture you in ways you've only heard. Theirs a reason my name is feared and yours is only told in passing!" He growled threateningly, eyes turning amber gold as he does so.

"I don't exist anymore, and the Anya of this time has no part in this. Changing the past eliminates my existence. I no longer exist and neither does your slayer." Anya's voice says fading out of existence.

"Oh god. Buffy." Was all Angel said before he bolted out of the room. Leaping over the railing of the upstairs he lands smoothly on the ground and rushes out the back to his car.

_10 min's later…_

Angel was zooming out of L.A as fast as the car would allow. He needed to get to Buffy and he needed to get to her an hour ago. If there was some way to save her, he would save her.

_Alleyway…._

As the rained pelted down on the very Pregnant Darla. A soaking Fred by her side.

Darla turned to Fred. "What happened to him!" She screamed.

"I don't know! He just poofed disappeared!" Fred franticly yelled back.

A moment later an arrow came sailing through the air and embedded itself in Darla's chest. As Darla turned to dust a baby was left in her wake. A dirty, wet, and crying baby boy screaming for parents who can't hear his call. Fred goes to reach for him but finds a current of electricity going through her body. Fred is thrown back by the power and knocked unconscious.

Lilah comes out of the shadows with a stun gun in her hand and purpose in her heart. She puts the stun gun away and scoops the baby into her arms as if she was a natural born mother. She looks down at the baby with a sinister smile on her face.

"Well aren't you a cute little thing. Oh yes you are." She said in that typical I'm talking to a baby voice. Still talking in baby, "And I bet your insides looks just as cute, Oh yes they do, yes they do. Let's have a look." Lilah turned and with a nod of the head beckoned a Wolfram and Hart Swat member.

She handed the baby over to him. "Make sure he stays alive and get him to the lab. Our scientist will have a field day with it."

The Swat member swallowed hard and nodded, soon rushing off to do his job.

Lilah just stared into the flames of the burning club, her arms crossed, an array of emotions flittering across her face.

**TBC…**


	8. Seven

With Every Decision

Disclaimer: We own nothing but the warped plots generated by our imaginations.

Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: WayWard Childe and I, SquirlyForSpike in case y'all didn't know, write together under the name of Squirly Childe. We started this fic a while back and the other day WayWard asked me if I wanted to wrap this part up. He'll put up an epilogue in a few days or when he gets the muse for it. We're both busy on other fics, him with Blood Knights in Gotham (nominated for awards!) and me with Resurrected and Silence Is Golden Unless… and completely appreciate everyone who's following our insanities. Thank you for your patience in waiting for the end to this fic. There will be sequels in the future.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Giles woke to the sound of frantic pounding on his door. He noted the time as he searched for his robe and slippers before going downstairs. Just past dawn if the soft light streaming in the windows was anything to go by, he thought. Muttering to himself about the rudeness of the children he'd adopted as his own, he wrenched the door open. Shocked at seeing Angel leaning on his doorframe, trying to stay out of the brightening rays of the sun, Giles fell back, allowing the master vampire to enter. Angel's haunted dark eyes glittered in the dim glow of the living room lamp.

"Angel?" Giles secured his robe and straightened his glasses. "What's wrong?"

The dark vampire started as if surprised to hear the Watcher speak. "B—buffy. Vision." Angel gasped.

Fear shot through Giles. "What about her?"

"S—spike's crypt." Angel closed his eyes as the vision of her lifeless body on the filthy floor of the crypt forced its way into his thoughts.

"Oh my." Giles started up the stairs to get dressed. "Wait here." He threw over his shoulder as he broke into a run, taking the stairs two at a time. The look on Angel's face spurring him on as he threw on whatever clothing was available.

Angel inhaled deep needless breaths in an effort to calm himself. He'd driven the two hour trip from LA in a blind panic. The realization the she was truly dead was seeping into his soul and tearing him to pieces. He picked up the phone and called Xander and Willow, asking them to come as soon as possible.

**Spike's Crypt…**

Stunned silence reigned in the crypt Spike had called home. Buffy's body had been carefully laid out on the floor. Willow sobbed, breaking the silence.

Angel knelt next to the bloodless body and tried to keep from howling out his grief. Giles sat heavily into the battered armchair Spike liked to sit in to watch his tiny television. He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose as he faced his nightmare again. This was the third time his slayer had died and this time it was final. There was no coming back from this one. Whatever had killed her had made sure of it. The body was cold.

"Spike did this." Xander growled. "He's dead. I'm gonna fit him in an ashtray. How could we have let him hang around so long? I hate him!" Tears streamed down the carpenter's face as he stood helplessly over Buffy's body.

While running through the sewers to the crypt, Angel had come to a difficult decision. Hoping that what he was about to do was the right thing, he looked at the three heartbroken members of Buffy's family.

"Spike didn't do this." He stated.

"What do you mean? Of course he did it. This is his crypt. No one else would dare come in here." Xander's anger battled with his sorrow.

"If Spike had killed his third slayer he'd be here rubbing it in. Gloating over it. He's not. So he couldn't have done it." Angel argued.

"Then what happened?" Willow asked, wiping at the tears cascading down her pretty face.

Angel stood up and gazed down at Buffy's oddly peaceful face. He inhaled, pretending to scent the area for clues. He closed his eyes, ignoring the puzzlement on the others' faces. He followed Spike's unique scent as he slowly walked around the crypt. He would never admit to just whose trail he was following. He opened his eyes as he got to the sarcophagus. He carefully walked around the stone coffin, finally spotting the scrap of crumpled paper on the floor. He picked it up and tears rose as he caught the scent of Spike's own tears from the paper. He handed it to Giles wordlessly.

The Watcher noticed the watermarks on the lined paper as he read the note.

'_**I've gone to find out what happened and why. I don't know who it was but I'm going to find out. I have to finish it for her. Don't expect me back until I have the answers.**_

_**Spike'**_

Angel squashed down his guilt over his part in Buffy's death and kept his face expressionless.

"He's gone."

"I still think he did it." Xander grumbled, trying to pretend he didn't have sobs hitching in his chest making it hard to breathe.

Angel caught a sharp unnecessary breath. "_No, he didn't_. His scent isn't even on her…" His voice broke for a second. "Her body."

Willow walked over to her life-long friend and slid her arms around his waist. She buried her damp face in his broad chest and held on almost desperately. Xander's arms came up and encircled the redheaded witch's shoulders, hugging her close. He laid his head on top of hers and closed his eyes. United in their overwhelming grief, they stood there for long minutes.

Giles smoothed the creases from the note and folded it carefully before sliding it into his pocket. He would slip it in between the pages of his Watcher's Journal. He dreaded having to write his final entry but knew it had to be done. Salty tears slid down his suddenly aged face as he sat in stony silence, not quite able to tear his eyes away from his fallen slayer, his daughter.

They all jumped when Xander cleared his throat. "Um… Who's gonna tell Dawnie?"


End file.
